Stacey’s POV
Megan been circling me for days, and I knew it was only a matter of time before she decided to strike. She never let anyone off her radar once they’d annoyed her, and siding with Betty was more than enough to paint a target on my back.
I didn’t have to wait long.
I leaned against the stone wall near the quad fountain, scrolling through my phone.
"Stacey," her voice called out, sweet as poison, cutting through the noise of the quad like a knife.
I glanced up, forcing myself to stay casually slouched against the wall. Megan was walking toward me. She was like a storm cloud hanging over the sunny campus vibe.
"Megan," I said coolly, tilting my head just enough to show I wasn’t impressed. "Shouldn’t you be off spreading lies somewhere more interesting?"
She stopped a few feet away, her arms crossed and her hip cocked like she was posing for a cheap perfume ad. "Oh, I don’t need to go anywhere else," she said, her smile sharp. "You’re already making yourself look ridiculous without my help."
I raised an eyebrow, letting my phone dangle loosely in my hand. "Is this going somewhere, or are you just here to remind everyone what desperation looks like?"
"That’s rich coming from you. Always riding Betty’s coattails, hoping her spotlight will make you look important. Face it, Stacey—you’re irrelevant. Just a washed-up queen bee clinging to her last scraps of attention."
I pushed off the wall and straightened up, taking a deliberate step toward her. The crowd around us was starting to quiet, the whispers turning into curious stares. Fine. If Megan wanted to make up lies for the audience, I’d give her one too.
"At least, I don’t need to fake a pregnancy to get attention."
The crowd gasped, a ripple of shock passing through it.
Megan’s smirk vanished. "What did you just say?"
.
***
"You said that?" Betty’s eyes widened as I retold her the encounter later that night, back at the house.
"Yeah."
"To her face?"
"Yup."
I flopped onto the couch beside her. "I might’ve made things worse.".
.
To my surprise, a grin broke across Betty’s face—a real, unguarded grin that I hadn’t seen in weeks. And then she laughed, leaning her head back. "You made things better, Stace. She deserved that."
I leaned back into the couch, a smile creeping across my own face. I agreed with her. Megan deserved every bit of it—and then some.